


99 Cents

by Fishwichformylove



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:19:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishwichformylove/pseuds/Fishwichformylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"England found himself biting his own lip yearningly as he took in the sight of his lover done up with the smooth red lipstick. America had done it perfectly, not smearing or over-exaggerating a single curve of his slightly bowed mouth, and the result was more arousing than England had ever imagined it would be."</p>
            </blockquote>





	99 Cents

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old one-shot that can also be found in my story "Shelf Space" on ff.net, and on my tumblr (fishwichformylove.tumblr.com). I'm adding it here in the interest of keeping all the nsfw things together from now on. Sorry if you've already read this and were hoping for something new!

"Are you sure you don’t want me to help?"

"Naw, I think I can do it. You just sit there," America called from England’s bathroom, his voice sounding tinny from the reverb.

England fussed with the wrinkles on the comforter, crossing and uncrossing his legs as he waited for America to appear. He’d wanted this, it was his request, and America had been so kind as to go along with it, but England was still fearful that he would take it badly once they got started.

"Man, I do not know how chicks do this every day," America laughed, and England fought the urge to peek into the bathroom to monitor his progress.

"Just make sure you go inside the lines, as it were."

"Yeah, I know that! It’s just weird."

America was quiet for a few seconds, then he whined, “And this is cheap shit, too. You couldn’t at least buy something that wasn’t going to fuck my mouth up?”

England grunted and rolled his eyes. “Why was I going to spend money on something we’d only use once?”

"How do you know that? We might do it again. We’ve done weirder."

"Do… do you like it?" England twitched in anticipation when he heard a small click from inside the bathroom and America emerged.

"Maybe. I think I look kinda hot. What do you think?"

Hot was an understatement. England found himself biting his own lip yearningly as he took in the sight of his lover done up with the smooth red lipstick. America had done it perfectly, not smearing or over-exaggerating a single curve of his slightly bowed mouth, and the result was more arousing than England had ever imagined it would be. He wasn’t sure when the fantasy had been solidified in his mind, but there was something about the cherry shade that had always appealed to England, something bold and defiant, but sensual. In his view, there was nothing feminine or odd about it, just the highlighted eroticism of America’s mouth glistening ruby red from a tube of cheap lipstick.

"That’s… yes… uh, yes."

"That good, huh?"

England nodded and reached out for America, wanting to taste the vibrance for himself. America surged forward enthusiastically, and England pulled away, holding his chin in his hand.

"No be, careful, I don’t want you to smear."

"I thought that was the point."

England struggled to focus as America licked his bottom lip and the colour became dewy with his spit. “I want it on me, but I don’t want you to look cheap. Leave marks, but be careful.”

Nodding, America allowed England to guide him into a gentle kiss. There was no aggression, no overly passionate work with the lips or tongue, just the simple pressure of a slick mouth against his own and England’s head swam with the knowledge that every second of contact was transferring more and more of the sweet pigment to his own lips. He pulled back for a breath and let America continue at his own pace, moaning softly in his throat as kisses were pressed to the corner of his mouth, his cheeks, and his jaw. America was just about to start in on his neck, hands skimming up and down his sides, when England pulled back.

"Reapply."

"Wha- oh, okay." America’s glasses were knocked a little askew and he straightened them to dig in his jeans pockets for the tube of lipstick. "Don’t think I didn’t see the name, by the way."

Grinning coyly, England took the lipstick and opened it, holding America’s face still with one hand while he daubed more of the red crème onto his mouth. It was vain, but part of the reason he had chosen this particular brand was for the name: Redcoat. It was his fantasy, after all, so he figured he was allowed to be a little narcissistic.

Tossing the tube aside, England let America push him back onto the bed, lying still and enjoying the feeling of his warm fingers as they popped his shirt buttons open and rubbed little circles into his chest and belly. More fiery, but neat kisses were trailed down his torso, one around a nipple after a harsh bite, another on his ribcage, another around his bellybutton and more still at every place in between. England was squirming, his stomach muscles clenching in reaction to each feather light touch and he had to fist the bedding by his head to avoid the temptation of pulling at America’s hair.

"Take off your glasses," he commanded breathily. America did as he was told, and England felt a rush of raw desire. He looked younger, more tawdry and tousled without the facade of his neat frames, adding to the allure of the tender lips glistening with pigment and saliva. America leaned down to kiss England on the mouth again, this time more aggressively but still cognisant of his orders, and he worked one-handed to get England’s pants off. He had managed to get them half way down his thighs when England pushed at his shoulders and sat up.

"I want to see."

After a few moments of fumbling and figuring out the best vantage point, England was divested of the rest of his clothing, sitting in the V of America’s spread legs, back to chest, facing the vanity mirror on the wall opposite his bed. He could see himself from the hips up, see every scarlet mark America had left on his body and the slow movement of America’s hand as he reached around to jack him off. Head buried in the crook of his neck, America nuzzled his skin, the tickle of his hair making England shiver. England’s eyes wandered over the lipstick stains and he panted as America picked up the pace of his stroking. He closed his eyes and tossed his head back, he rest of his body following suit until America was forced to roll out from underneath him.

England enjoyed the quiet and the lack of sensation on his body, jumping when the mouth was back, this time on the inside of his left thigh. America’s breath felt wet and hot on his cock but he reached out blindly to stop him.

"Reapply."

America did it himself this time, impatiently, but precisely. England sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, forcing America to kneel before him as he sucked him off. If he had thought the kiss marks on his body were arousing, the flushed imprint on the tip of his cock, visible for only a moment before it disappeared behind crimson lips, was the most erotic thing England had ever seen.

He gripped America’s shoulders, whispering half incoherent encouragements, watching as the lipstick and spit left odd pink streaks and rings up and down the shaft of his cock. He wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the sinful textures of America’s mouth and tongue, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the stretched lips bobbing back and forth and the wide blue eyes staring up at him with complete adoration.

England felt himself teeter on the edge of orgasm, and barely managed to pull his cock out of America’s mouth and get a hold of his chin before he came. America understood what he wanted immediately and closed his mouth, a strange hybrid between a moan and whimper rumbling in his throat as England let his cum drip across his lips and down his chin.

They were silent for a while, England panting and stroking his fingers through America’s sweaty hair, and America just sitting back on his knees and smiling even as the cum mixed with the lipstick to produce a thick, pink mess. After he felt strong enough to stand, England padded into the bathroom, motioning for America to stay where he was, and located a package of baby wipes under his sink. When he returned, he wiped America’s face and mouth clean of the makeup and semen, clucking soothingly when America flinched because of the cold, damp cloth.

Finished with his task, England wordlessly invited America to lie down with him in the bed, curling into one another despite the fact that England was completely naked and covered in lipstick and America was still fully clothed.

"You don’t want me to clean yours off?" America asked, kissing England’s hairline and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"No," England replied, and snuggled under America’s chin. "I think I’ll keep it a while yet."


End file.
